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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202208">wildfire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonheart/pseuds/cartoonheart'>cartoonheart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Grey's Anatomy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Friends With Benefits, Porn with Feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:33:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,499</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202208</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cartoonheart/pseuds/cartoonheart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU from 14x24 where Meredith and Andrew somehow end up in a "friends with benefits" situation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andrew DeLuca/Meredith Grey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>wildfire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I legitimately can't believe I'm posting this. Go easy on me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“D-Deluca,” she stammers, hands flailing about until they find the broad expanse of his shoulders. “This is… this is…”</p>
<p>“This is?” he prompts, and even as he says it, she feels his smirk against her skin, lips tracing unfathomable patterns against the side of her neck.</p>
<p>“We… we shouldn’t be doing this,” she finally asserts, trying to make it sound like all the breath hasn’t left her body, like he hasn’t drained her of any thought beyond <i>him</i>. </p>
<p>Meredith can feel his smile press against her again. “You said that last time,” he teases, the joyful lilt in his voice unmistakable. “And the time before that. <i>And</i> the time before that.”</p>
<p>It annoys her that he’s right. She can hear the smugness of his words, and really, it should turn her off, and yet it doesn’t. She wonders if it’s his arrogance she’s attracted to, whether that’s what got her caught up in this… situation in the first place.</p>
<p>“DeLuca,” she warns, but there is no real anger behind it and she knows that he knows it. She makes this protest every time, and even Meredith has to admit it’s becoming half-hearted at best.</p>
<p>“Andrew,” he corrects, from the space behind her ear, hot breath tickling with the exhale of each syllable. </p>
<p>She supposes that’s fair, given the circumstances. He’s been inside her, for goodness sake. The least she can do is call him by his first name. </p>
<p>But that doesn’t stop her making a show of it. “Fine,” she huffs. “<i>Andrew</i>.”</p>
<p>The bemused smirk still lingers in his tone. “Yes, Meredith?” His lips are tracing towards her mouth and she knows she doesn’t have much time before he distracts her completely from her point.</p>
<p>“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she insists again, a touch more forcefully. And yet, she knows by the way her hands tighten their grip on his shoulders that her body language is contradicting her words. Still, Andrew seems to sense enough hesitation in her to pull back this time.</p>
<p>The question is in his eyes before he even says the words. “Do you want me to stop?” He looks sweetly concerned, like he thinks maybe he has crossed a line; like perhaps at some point this had gone from mutually agreed fun to something else. </p>
<p>Meredith is torn. She has no desire to make him feel bad. By all accounts, he’s a good person - and, she admits, excellent in bed. The reality is that she doesn’t want him to <i>stop</i>. But the responsible adult in her needs to try and get her head straight. He might be young and beautiful, and have the world at his feet, and this might mean nothing to him beyond fun and games. But she has a life, and a reputation to uphold. She can’t be having dalliances with residents just because she finds them attractive, even if they (well, Andrew specifically) seem to feel the same about her.</p>
<p>“Well.... no,” she answers truthfully, because while her willpower is useless when he kisses her, it isn’t much better when he stares at her. There’s something about his expression that rattles her, makes her feel more seen than she wants to be.</p>
<p>“Okay?” Andrew shoots her a confused look, and she feels his hand press gently against the small of her back. Something delightful races up her spine. “I’m not sure where that leaves us, Mer.”</p>
<p>He calls her Mer like he’s known her his whole life, like there’s a familiarity between them that warrants it. And he’s not wrong. This is hardly the first time they’ve done this; been on the verge of undressing each other somewhere inappropriate. Meredith also senses it won’t be the last. And yet somehow she still thinks of him as DeLuca half the time, even when she texts him the most filthy things in the dead of night when she knows he’s working and he can’t do anything about it.</p>
<p>When did her life get so complicated?</p>
<p>She’s not sure how to answer his question, and so takes the opportunity to step away, heading deeper into her house, stopping when she reaches the kitchen. He trails after her, pausing as he reaches the threshold. He’s still wearing his leather jacket, and she supposes his motorbike must be parked in her driveway, advertising to all in sundry that he’s here. They’re not exactly doing a good job of keeping this a secret.</p>
<p>But… really, what is <i>this</i> at the end of the day?</p>
<p>“So?” he prompts, and while it may sound casual, Meredith can tell by the look on his face that suddenly his question is anything <i>but</i>.</p>
<p>“So?” she echoes. It isn’t meant to be a confrontation, but somehow he’s caught her on the back foot. </p>
<p>This wasn’t supposed to happen. A drunken kiss at a wedding and suddenly she’s neck deep in… what? She doesn’t even know what to call this thing between them. It had started off as a stupid mistake, and then grown into a late night at the bar, and his offer to walk her to her car. Meredith hadn’t anticipated what would come next, or maybe that’s a lie - maybe she did and she just doesn’t want to admit it.</p>
<p>Suddenly they’re texting, and covertly meeting for sex in on call rooms, the couch in his apartment. They’ve never really <i>talked</i> about it. Somehow they hadn’t needed to. </p>
<p>Until now. She thinks she needs to talk about it now. But she has no idea what to say.</p>
<p>So she deflects. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me again, DeLuca.”</p>
<p>He laughs at her from across the room, and for a second there, she thinks he might refuse, even though he never refuses her - and how has she not noticed that until now?</p>
<p>“What?” she asks, as he moves towards her slowly, like he’s a lion stalking his prey. </p>
<p>“Andrew,” he insists again, with that comical tilt of his head that she’s learnt to recognise as him teasing her. “You’ve got to start calling me Andrew.”</p>
<p>Instead of answering, instead of doing what he asks, she steps into his body, pushing his back against her refrigerator. She can hear the clunk of the magnets, the crinkling of paper as his jacket presses against the hard surface. And yet, he doesn’t complain, just complies, and it’s so much easier when he just <i>kisses</i> her back.</p>
<p>In the recesses of her mind, she thinks she should take him upstairs, because otherwise they are both going to end up naked in her kitchen. And maybe ten years ago she wouldn’t have cared, but now she has three sleeping children, and two sisters who could walk in at any moment. </p>
<p>That said, she’s never taken him <i>upstairs</i> before. In fact, he’s never been in her house for this reason before - and maybe that is what’s throwing her tonight. Sure, he’s slept on her couch, grieving over another woman, but that feels like a lifetime ago now. Back then he certainly wasn’t fucking Meredith’s brains out on a regular basis. The thought makes her laugh.</p>
<p>“What’s funny?” he asks, sounding short of breath and a bit hopeless. His lips stay close, still tracing the outline of hers in something that Meredith would almost describe as tender, if it wasn’t for it being <i>them</i>.</p>
<p>“Nothing,” she replies, after a moment, letting her hand slide under his shirt, and across the smooth expanse of his stomach. She feels the muscles tense at her touch, and she’s not quite sure he’s ever reacted that way before. “I was just contemplating if we’re going to fuck in my kitchen, or whether it’s safer that I take you upstairs.”</p>
<p>She expects him to laugh too, because really, it’s a bit funny, isn’t it? Are these the things that… friends with benefits have to discuss? It’s not really her forte. Besides, are they really even friends? She knows so little about him beyond work, beyond the hospital. Sure, she knows <i>exactly</i> how talented his mouth is, but that’s hardly something she can share with others, is it?</p>
<p>But instead of joining in her amusement, he pauses. “Huh,” he says eventually, and there’s something strange in his expression, something she’s not seen before. “Your bedroom?”</p>
<p>She’s not sure what he means, so keeps her answer light. “I mean, yes. I do have one of those,” she smiles with what she hopes is flirtatious nonchalance.</p>
<p>He rolls his eyes at her, suddenly more himself than a second ago. “I know that. It’s just… we’ve not…”</p>
<p>Andrew can’t seem to finish his sentence, but even so, Meredith somehow understands completely how it would end. “We’ve not done that before?” she questions, eyes tracing his face and suddenly the mood has gone from passionate to curt. Anxiety rears up in her chest. Because it's true - they've never actually spent any time in either of their bedrooms before. Even at his place, they've studiously avoided the bed, as if they both subconsciously agreed it was out of bounds given their casual arrangement.</p>
<p>“Well, no,” he replies, sliding from her grip and away from her body. A sudden panic seizes her that he’s going to <i>leave</i>. And then her panic turns to confusion as to why she even cares if he does. None of this makes sense. </p>
<p>But it’s clear she’s said something that’s thrown him, and really there’s only one answer as to what it could be. He’s mistaken her suggestion to mean more than it does. </p>
<p>After all, Andrew DeLuca is totally and objectively <i>hot</i>. He could have any woman he wants. He doesn’t need the complications of sleeping with a widow, a single mother of three, even if Meredith thinks she can still hold her own. He doesn’t need the seriousness of what her life offers, even if she’s not even offering it. Andrew has <i>casual</i> written all over him, even if he doesn’t mean to. </p>
<p>She tries not to feel disappointed at the thought that he’s on the verge of politely telling her that this has all been fun, but that they probably best end it here before it gets too complicated. After all, what did she expect? It’s not that Meredith had thought anything beyond her immediate needs, if she’s honest. It’s only fair to assume this couldn’t last forever. She knows she certainly wasn’t out looking for this, and yet somehow it had happened anyway. They had never discussed boundaries, but in the matter of seconds, she’s managed to cross one anyway. It is what it is.</p>
<p>Now that there is some distance between their bodies, Meredith takes a moment to look at him without the usual fog that tends to descend on her brain when he’s near. She wonders what it must be like for him to walk through the world, being as attractive as he is. It’s a wonder that he’s as nice as she knows him to be. </p>
<p>That’s why even as she waits for him to let her down gently, she suspects he’ll be kind about it. Sure, he can hold his own when it comes to replying to her dirty texts, but in person he’s been nothing but respectful. Meredith doesn’t expect this to be any different. Already she can see him weighing up his approach, worried expression hard upon his features.</p>
<p>That’s why it surprises her when instead of a carefully worded rejection and a quick exit, Andrew takes off his jacket, and throws it over one of her dining chairs. It’s a gesture that speaks volumes, one that says: <i>I’m not going anywhere</i>.</p>
<p>Meredith decides to address the situation head on. “Have I freaked you out?” she asks frankly, her hands coming to press on the edge of the kitchen counter. Her body still wants to be close to his and she scolds it for wanting to betray her, even when it’s clear that he’s probably about to tell her that this isn’t anything, that this whole thing has been <i>just some fun</i>.</p>
<p>He looks surprised at her question, shoots her a bemused frown. “I… ahh, no? I just didn’t think that was something you wanted.”</p>
<p>Now she’s lost again. “Something I wanted?”</p>
<p>His eyes slide away from her, as if he doesn’t quite want to meet her eyes for what he’s about to say. “You know… going up to your room, it’s… code, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>She can’t help it, she laughs. “<i>Is</i> it?”</p>
<p>Quickly, Andrew paces forward, so that he ends up standing on the opposite side of the counter, staring at her head on. His gaze is direct where it hadn’t been before. It’s oddly intimate considering they aren’t touching - <i>can’t</i> really touch. “I just meant… we haven’t discussed it. The next steps, I mean.”</p>
<p>“The next steps?” she echoes, feeling her eyebrows hitch in surprise.</p>
<p>“Are you just going to repeat everything I say back to me?” he retorts, but there is no real malice in it. If anything, he sounds nervous, ill at ease. Perhaps he thinks that she’s going to take his rejection badly.</p>
<p>She decides to put him out of his misery. “I just suggested it because it’s… practical,” she points out, waving a hand around the room. There are children’s pictures on every surface, and they say what she doesn’t need to. “This is hardly private. And you know this house tends to find itself home to all sorts of waifs and strays, coming and going at all times of the day.”</p>
<p>He grimaces at description, a recollection of a week on her couch a little too fresh, but there is enough bemusement beneath his reply. “Gee, thanks.”</p>
<p>She grins to try and ease the tension. “Anyway, I didn’t mean it as a… “<i>let’s go upstairs because I wanted to kick this… situation</i>,” she looks sheepish at the word, “<i>to the next level</i>” kind of thing.”</p>
<p>A sharp look meets her own. His eyes are darker than she’s ever seen them. “The next level?”</p>
<p>“Now who’s the repeater?” she teases back, before continuing. “But yes. The invitation doesn’t oblige you to anything more than… this, Andrew.” Meredith notices that his eyes soften at her use of his first name for a change. “I’m not trying to slowly trick you into a relationship.”</p>
<p>She means it at a joke, like, <i>of course, she wouldn’t be doing that, because the idea that he would want a relationship with her is an idea that is so blatantly ridiculous</i>. </p>
<p>What she doesn’t expect is the huff he makes, the way his face goes from open and curious to hurt and disappointed within milliseconds.</p>
<p>“Is that so ridiculous?” he says after a moment, and it’s all she can do not to stare back at him in shock. He meets her eyes with defiance, and all of a sudden she’s not quite sure she’s understanding any of this correctly.</p>
<p>Meredith frowns. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>He leans his palms into the counter, mirroring her. Meredith tries not to notice the tanned forearms that creep into peripheral vision. Her mouth goes dry anyway. “Is it so ridiculous that I’d want to… go to that next level with you?” </p>
<p>Meredith’s sure that her jaw must be somewhere near the ground. “I’m sorry… what?”</p>
<p>He looks annoyed at her obtuseness, but not enough to not articulate it. With only a few long strides, he circles the counter, and is next to her, hand on her hip turning her so they are face to face.</p>
<p>“Is it,” he repeats, leaning towards her so that his lips graze her forehead, “so ridiculous,” down her nose, “that I’d want to,” across her cheekbone, “go to that next level with you?” His lips slant over her mouth before she can answer, and Meredith feels herself sink into his bulk. She can hardly fail to notice the way his arms slide around her, in a way that feels… almost… possessive.</p>
<p>Has she had him wrong this entire time? Or is he just laughing at her? Distracting her?</p>
<p>She thinks back to when he first kissed her, drunk and ashamed and sincere in his apologies. </p>
<p>Everything after that had felt like a dream that maybe had been happening to someone else. The way he kissed her outside of Joe’s, her body pressed against her car. The texts, starting innocently before progressing to something incredibly <i>not</i> innocent. The way they’d found themselves alone together in an on call room, and suddenly he’s going down on her with a reverence that Meredith never realised that she inspired in him.</p>
<p>Hours after hours in his apartment, her never staying long enough, always with an excuse to leave. Him always checking to make sure she got home safely, back to the hospital safely, an unnecessary but kind detail that she never really analysed until now.</p>
<p>Lately, she’s found that she wants to <i>tell</i> him things. And sometimes, their limbs entwined, on his uncomfortable couch, she <i>has</i>. But she’d just assumed that it hadn’t meant anything. That they were just <i>fucking</i>, because why on earth would he want more from her? He’s never said he did. But then again, she’s never asked. They’ve never <i>discussed it</i>.</p>
<p>She can feel the press of him against her, and rocks her hips slightly, earning herself a stifled moan from him that gets swallowed by her own mouth. The thought that he wants her makes her feel powerful, as it always does. But the thought that he wants more from her than this? Well, it both thrills and terrifies her at the same time.</p>
<p>She doesn’t want to think about it right now.</p>
<p>Except that Andrew seems to have other ideas. "Mer?"</p>
<p>“Enough talking,” she says, cutting him off with another kiss, “just fuck me already.”</p>
<p>Her words seem to still him, the total opposite of their usual effect. Instead Andrew pulls back from her, and casts her a sly look. “Ahh, but where? That’s the real question, isn’t it?” There’s a glimmer in his eye. Because this isn’t really about where they’re going to do this. It’s more about what it means when they do.</p>
<p>She shrugs away from him, frustrated. She doesn’t like to be put on the spot like this, not when she’s only just realising all the new facts of the situation, and that maybe she’s misread them. Really, they should have just gone to his apartment tonight, and maybe they could have avoided this whole thing.</p>
<p>But the truth is he’s right. They probably do need to talk about this. It’s not right if they don’t. </p>
<p>“Okay,” she says eventually with a heavy sigh, letting her hip rest against the counter and folding her arms across her chest. “Tell me, DeLuca,” she uses his surname with intent this time, even though she can’t say the reason behind it, “what is it that you want? From me? From this?”</p>
<p>Meredith can see her directness, her coldness, has taken him aback, but he quickly hides it.</p>
<p>“Clever,” he answers with that smug grin again. He can play this game too. She’s on edge enough that she’s tempted to reach out and whack him on the arm, but restrains herself. “Turning the question around on me first.”</p>
<p>She glares at him in warning. </p>
<p>“Fine, fine,” he retreats, and the serious version of Andrew is back, the sincere one that she’s been unearthing slowly this whole time. “I’ll go first,” he concedes diplomatically, taking a breath, and Meredith waits for the guillotine to fall.</p>
<p>“Meredith,” he starts, voice soft around the edges in a way that she’s never quite heard before, “I think you’re brilliant. Intelligent, kind… beautiful,” he gives her a bemused smile at the last one, but somehow she can’t find it in her heart to return it. She braces herself for the “but” and tries to tell herself that she doesn’t care.</p>
<p>“And I think this… thing between us has been… unexpected, and fun. For both of us, I think?”</p>
<p>Andrew looks to her for agreement, but her patience is running too thin. “But?”</p>
<p>He frowns at her, recognising that his preamble is not what she’s waiting to hear. “But... “ Meredith waits for the hit, “but… it’s not enough for me.”</p>
<p>That’s <i>not</i> what she expected. “Wait, what?”</p>
<p>He glances down awkwardly, kicking the toe of his shoe hard into her kitchen floor, before looking up again, preparing to elaborate. “It’s not enough for me, Mer. I want… more. More of this, more of you. More of… us?”</p>
<p>“<i>More</i>?” The uplift in her tone is more than enough to convey the utter surprise she feels at his confession. She’s been expecting… anything but this.</p>
<p>“Yes,” Andrew answers, tone calm even though his face looks completely wrecked with apprehension. “More.”</p>
<p>“Not less?” she insists on clarifying, just to be sure she’s not hearing things. “Not <i>it’s been fun, but I’m not looking for anything serious</i>?”</p>
<p>He has the audacity to laugh at her openly, face breaking apart in a stupid grin that she’s not really sure makes sense here. “That’s <i>literally</i> the opposite of what I just said, Mer.”</p>
<p>There it is, that familiarity again, she notes. Somehow he’s already placed himself in her life, before Meredith had even realised that she’d opened the door to him. She wants to be mad about it, but somehow she’s just… not.</p>
<p>“Oh,” she answers finally, still trying to register what exactly his words mean for her, for him, for <i>them</i>. “You mean?”</p>
<p>Instead of answering her question, he just stares warmly at her, his expression kind and open and god, how should she not have seen it until now? Had she been so blinded by the sex?</p>
<p>“I see,” she says finally, and it feels weirdly formal given what he’s just confessed. “I didn’t… I didn’t expect that.”</p>
<p>She’s rewarded with a raise of an eyebrow. “I gathered. So… what do you think?”</p>
<p>There is such hope in his voice that she almost melts. She stares up at him, taking in the earnestness of his features, the kindness of his face. He’s a good person, she knows. She may not <i>know</i> him all that well, but she knows that. And she knows that she wants him. Not just to warm her bed, although definitely that too. She wants to… try?</p>
<p>Meredith waits for her defenses to kick in - the ones that usually warn her off being vulnerable, warn her away from letting anyone in. And yet, nothing happens. Perhaps it’s too late. Perhaps Andrew has somehow slid past her barriers and she never even noticed until it was too late.</p>
<p>She realises she needs to break the silence, if only to put him out of the misery he so clearly looks to be in the longer she doesn’t reply.</p>
<p>“I think…” she starts, feeling her heart rise up in her chest as she finds the words, “I think you need to take me upstairs, immediately.”</p>
<p>The grin that splits his face is the perhaps the happiest she’s ever seen him look in the years that she’s known him. She feels unnaturally <i>light</i> at the idea, and then wonders if perhaps she’s having a mental break. These sorts of decisions have never come this easily to her before.</p>
<p>“My pleasure,” he smiles, and it’s all handsome angles, and straight lines of teeth. Meredith waits for him to kiss her, because it feels like the next step, but instead he reaches for one of her hands, and grasps it tightly. </p>
<p>She’s not really sure what they are getting themselves into, if she’s honest. But for change, she’s going to try and not run from it. So instead, before she can overthink it, Meredith turns and leads him out of the kitchen, pulling him up the stairs behind her. He follows her dutifully down the hallway, and into her bedroom.</p>
<p>He enters with reverence, like somehow he understands the significance of the moment. This is no longer casual fucking: destination already reached. This is the start of a journey, a “let’s see where this goes” but for some reason they are both okay with having no road map at all.</p>
<p>Usually it’s easy for her to let herself go with him. Before now, it has been a physical understanding: two bodies finding pleasure without judgement. But this time, it feels like it matters. She feels more nervous than she ever has with him, but she’s determined not to make a big deal about this.</p>
<p>Luckily he doesn’t let her dwell in it, his movements as confident as always, even though Meredith can see the slight shake of his hands as he reaches for the hem of her shirt before tugging it over her head.</p>
<p>As it drops to the floor, he kisses her properly, mouth open and eager. Meredith responds in kind, arms threading up around his neck, anchoring her body to his. Finally, <i>finally</i>, she thinks, as he reacts to her, a low hum in his throat. This is something she can keep.</p>
<p>His thumb brushes against her nipples, first one and then the other, both still hidden behind the lace of her bra. Instantly her neck arches back at the sensation, excitement rearing through her. She’s been aching for this all night, and so his touch feels like it burns her, even though at the same time, it feels like it’s not enough. </p>
<p>“Andrew,” she whines, as she reaches for the button on her jeans, before quickly wriggling them off her hips. Usually she’d let him do it, enjoy the look on his face when he does, but tonight she doesn’t have the patience.</p>
<p>He gives her a glance, heavy with lust, as the fabric pools around her ankles, and she kicks them away. “Someone’s eager,” he teases, as his thumb grazes across a nipple again, and Meredith knows that this time it needs to be hard and fast or else she’ll implode.</p>
<p>Her hands move quickly to his clothes, making it clear that it’s unacceptable that he’s still fully dressed when she’s standing there mostly naked. She removes his shirt before he can say another word, static electricity crackling as it peels away from his skin. Her fingers next find the fastenings of his jeans, moving quickly, before sliding inside his underwear.</p>
<p>“Meredith,” he hisses as she grasps him, and she loves the expression on his face: wild and possessed with something that he can barely control. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”</p>
<p>“When have I ever?” she retorts, as she pumps him with one hand, enjoying the satisfying weight of him, feeling the wetness pool between her thighs. There’s something about the idea that he’s <i>hers</i> now that sings to her, even if she knows deep down he’s his own person, and not some plaything anymore. It’s bizarre how quickly she’s gone from awaiting their downfall to revelling in their triumph.</p>
<p>But <i>more</i>. More, she needs more. </p>
<p>Andrew seems to sense it, and so quickly maneuvers her so she’s lying horizontal across the bed. He removes the remainder of his clothes as she watches, propped up on her elbows, enjoying the way his body moves, the familiar spread of muscles under the skin.</p>
<p>When he’s naked, she tugs him quickly back to her, ankles hooking around the backs of his thighs. He falls down against her, careful to still balance his weight so that he doesn’t crush her, hot skin meeting hers in a way that somehow still doesn’t feel like enough.</p>
<p>“Now, now, now,” she urges, trying to press him further down her body even though he seems preoccupied with the space between her breasts. </p>
<p>She feels his smile against her, the quick dart of his tongue against each nipple, still constrained by her bra. The sensation causes her hips to buck.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay, okay,” he laughs, mocking her. He slides down her body slowly, kissing as he goes. Meredith knows her obvious eagerness will work against her - that he’ll now tease her until she can’t take it anymore. She’s going to have to be prepared.</p>
<p>His fingers hook her underwear down her legs, and instead of minutes of excruciating build up, Andrew’s mouth seeks out where she needs it most immediately. She cries out in surprise and pleasure, the hot pressure of his tongue pressing perfectly against the exact spot she wants. It’s like he can read her mind, and if she wasn’t so preoccupied, she’d try and thank him.</p>
<p>This time he doesn’t let up. She knows from experience that Andrew is more than willing to take his sweet time when the mood strikes him. But this time he gives her what she so clearly needs. Her fingers thread through his dark hair, urging his mouth harder against her until she can barely think straight. </p>
<p>She feels the prickly wave of her orgasm rising up inside her, thighs tensing with the need to bring it along more quickly. Even with his tongue against her, all Meredith can think about is the width of his cock, of having it buried inside of her. The image spurns her on, and then she gets further still as she feels his fingers slide into her, curling in the perfect position to make her lose her mind.</p>
<p>Her climax hits her quickly after that, unable to stop herself from grinding down onto his face, undulating her hips at the sheer force of the sensation. The intensity of her release makes her pant out her breath until she can hardly catch it anymore.</p>
<p>His tongue lessens its movement, but still exerts a gentle massage as if to ease her down to reality. As she catches her breath, she feels his dark eyes on her, watching from between her legs. It does nothing to dampen her still not quenched ache for him.</p>
<p>It takes hardly any effort on her part to roll him on his back and climb atop him. Usually she’d make him wait, but there’s something urgent in her tonight that just needs him inside of her. She wants to ride him, and Meredith thinks Andrew knows that he needs to let her have that control.</p>
<p>She gasps as she sinks down on him, hands braced against his chest. She feels invincible, like she could do anything. His hands come to rest gently on her hips, urging her to set the pace.</p>
<p>She’s so wet, slick from her orgasm earlier, flying high from how good she feels. Meredith stares down at him from her pedestal, and revels in the way that he somehow knows what she needs, and lets her have it. She likes the idea of always having this.</p>
<p>Her hips flex against his, slowly at first until the rhythm builds up into something deep and punishing. Her breasts bounce with her movements, and so she reaches to remove her bra, somehow still on despite everything else. His eyes widen at the sight of her, riding his cock, nipples hard and free. His hands reach for her, grazing her peaks once more, and it’s enough to make her hiss in satisfaction.</p>
<p>“God,” he utters, and Meredith can see what she’s doing to him, how shallow his breathing has become. “You feel so good, Mer. <i>God</i>.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t need to say it, but she loves to hear it. She pounds her hips into his, faster and faster, a trickle of sweat forming between her shoulder blades. His thumb presses to her clit, and it’s that that does it, the small circles pulsating against the very heart of her. The insistent press of his beautiful cock inside of her, thick and hard and all for her sends her over the edge.</p>
<p>She rides the sensation out, collapsing against his chest, trying to regain any semblance of sanity. But despite that, her hips are still rolling against his, enjoying the residual jolts of pleasure, while at the same time urging him towards his own end. After allowing her a moment to catch her breath, Meredith feels his swell of his palm cupping her face, reaching for her. His kiss feels powerful, like he’s drawing strength from her. She presses back, mouth open and keen until she feels his back arch off the bed, followed by a choked groan buried in the hollow of her throat.</p>
<p>“Wow,” she says finally after long minutes, when her voice comes back to her, and she’s still pressed against the hot expanse of his chest.</p>
<p>She feels his nod of agreement, rather than sees it. “Yeah,” comes his reply, his palm sweeping her hair back off her face in a gesture more tender than their performance deserved. Meredith almost feels a little ashamed of herself for the debauched way she’s just let herself go. But as she glances up to meet Andrew’s eyes, she sees only admiration, and her fears sink away.</p>
<p>There’s a soft press of a kiss to her still clammy forehead, before she hears him laugh to himself. “So, this is your room, huh?”</p>
<p>She scowls at him. He laughs. It’s normal.</p>
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